A Little Broken
by braceface freak
Summary: John had witnessed his friend break a little today. Set during 'The Blind Banker'. Pre-slash.


_Disclaimer: As much as I wish it nothing Sherlock-related belongs to me._ _Though if you're offering I wouldn't say no to Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman or Andrew Scott._

_**One-shot based during the scene in Episode 2-The Blind Banker where Sebastian is talking with John and Sherlock in his office at the bank because I cannot resist that hurt look Sherlock gives when Sebastian says THAT line. Why does Benedict have to be so adorable? **  
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><p><strong><span>A Little Broken<span>**

"Put the wind up everybody," the man…Sebastian continued, clearly not aware of the reverence in John's tone, as his face contorted with a look akin to glee, "We hated it."

John instantly glanced over to his friend just in time to catch the flicker of pain cross his features, those grey-blue spheres that he had seen filled with excitement and gratitude dropped to the floor for a split second in an oddly submissive gesture, before returning to their original position.

The man behind the desk pratted on, the word 'freak' passing from his lips in a disgustingly happy way and John looked at his friend again; there was no response this time and Sherlock's eyes were ice-cold, the screens John had noticed gradually falling away over the past months had been re-erected stronger than ever.

A deep, raging anger sparkled into life deep in the pit of John's stomach, the same feeling he'd experienced whenever a comrade had been targeted on the battlefield and it took all his resolve not to stand and punch the banker (John could think of a similar more appropriate title) right in the centre of his well-groomed face.  
>As Sebastian and Sherlock exchanged frank words John clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, trying to get rid of some of the pent-up fury sure in the knowledge that if the smug prat uttered another bad word about his flatmate and his extraordinary talents he would not be able to stop himself knocking the fellow out.<p>

Suddenly the two were moving and John hurriedly lifted himself from the uncomfortable chair following Sherlock towards the scene of the crime.  
>He observed the square set of his friend's shoulders as they passed between cramped booths thinking he looked like he was carved from a marble block; cold, hard and strong….but it wasn't true, that was merely the shield Sherlock put up whenever he was in company and today John had got a first-hand view of the reasons why. It wasn't because he was heartless.<br>It was for protection; it was to save his sanity from the harsh words of others; it was to save himself the pain of rejection and hatred from the world around him because Sherlock Holmes, the _great_ Sherlock Holmes was human and humans-sociopath or not-could break.

John had witnessed his friend break a little today. He shuddered.

Drawing level with Sherlock he discretely lifted his hand and brushed the taller man's elbow with his fingers.  
>Even through his thick coat Sherlock must have felt the gentle touch as he turned his face to John with a bland expression and vacant eyes, unusual as he had just been offered a case.<br>John simply smiled.  
>Sherlock seemed utterly confused at his behaviour for a moment then he smiled back, his lips twisting up at the corners into the shape John had etched in his memory and his eyes warmed.<p>

The doctor and the detective remained smiling at each other until they abandoned the pose upon entering the office Sebastian had told them about.  
>Instantly Sherlock was scouring the room studying the bizarre yellow markings with the intense curiosity John had seen countless times before.<br>He sighed and watched, trying to keep his attention from the pig in the doorway.  
>Sherlock didn't need people like<em> that<em> in his life anymore, Sherlock had him and he-John Hamish Watson-despite the teasing and aggravated shouting matches, would never say anything to hurt his friend.

He hid a smile as Sherlock flitted out of the room and then back in, those stormy eyes never leaving the strange graffiti; the man was undoubtedly a genius but more importantly he was John's best friend and therefore John would protect him with his life safe in the knowledge that Sherlock would do the same for him. They were brothers-in-arms and always would be.

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><p><em><strong>Eeek! So there it is my first BBC Sherlock fic. I know that it had no plot but I hoped you liked it anyway. <strong>_

**_Reviews are always welcome._  
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